Tribute List
Emerald Shrinn and Glint Hune- D1
Artina Julant and Flint Maelart - D2
Sprilna Tarral and Garn Ponil - D3
Moara Tridel and Dairpil Kilin - D4
Fennia Teslon and Sleat Bolth - D5
Locomi Rell and Clunar Terr - D6
Valena Oaksmith and Sartri Wrenwood-D7
Thara Spinlaw and Patch Tworn-D8
Flaxia Greensil and Barr Amlera-D9
Leathana Furrin Cattan Swathel-D10
Orcita Flit and Slint Walnull-D11
Auria Caldul and Gaius Caldul-D12
A/N: This is my first fic, so please don't be too harsh! Reviews are always appreciated .
I wake up before the crack of dawn. School and working at the power plant had taught me that sleep was the least useful thing I could do. Looking around in the darkness, I see my father's bed already empty, my brother lying alone under the threadbare blanket. I try to wake him up for school, but, as usual it's no hope. I try not to think of the implications of today. Reaping Day. I force myself not to think of the 21 slips neatly printed with "Fennia Teslon," knowing that the tessera was necessary. Trying to convince myself that the odds were in my favor as I silently slipped into the small kitchen where my father was. He was looking down at the little round loaves of hard tessera grain and sighing, looking at me above the cracked glasses that had slid down his nose. "Morning." he said, in the raspy voice that comes from not speaking for long periods of time. "….and good luck today."
"Thanks, dad." is all I can think to say- knowing that I need the luck.
I disregard the small rolls and head directly towards the little battery on the counter. I look at the little machine that I've hooked it up to, and watch as the little fish in the tank twitch as Mal, my cat, watches them hungrily. It was a school project- we had to demonstrate a good grasp of electricity and how it affects the body. It seemed that nearly everything in school was about power, how to make it, transport it, store it. I'd gotten my first perfect grade on this, and kept the twitching fish forever, from time to time replacing them- though never in front of my brother. Carefully detaching the battery, I see the small guppies swim around jerkily, hoping that my brother isn't awake yet. I never did anything…questionable in front of him. He was innocent, and needed to be kept that way. Only 11, I told him that he couldn't take out any tesserae for the coming year. I would just work more. Exposing him to the real world would be shattering. And he, at least, would remain whole.
Whole. The word brings back flashes of bad memories. Of Sal. He didn't stand a chance, but it was only after his death that I was truly scared at the Reaping. He was not whole in the Games. He went insane, ravaging any living thing in his path. He was put down by the Gamemakers. I wouldn't let that happen to me if I was picked. I swore that to him.
My brooding was interrupted by the sound of a loud thud and an "I'm okay!" My brother had finally woken up. He stumbles, still half asleep, into the kitchen and, unlike me, starts to shovel food in his face. He tears through three rolls and neither I nor my dad have the heart to tell him that what's on the table is all we have. He finishes and looks up at me, smiling happily with water in his mouth. I smile back and force myself to eat before I go outside to work. I carefully split a roll in half and nibble on it as my dad takes the remaining half. As soon as I'm done, I run outside to the rain slicked ground. The chemicals from the plant make the water filled with salt. The perfect conductor. I took the battery and removed some wires from my pocket- I had "borrowed" them from the electrical repair kit that nobody dared go near. I hook up the bare, frayed ends of the wires to the battery's neat nodes and place it gently on the floor. The mice that inhabit all of District 5's slums squeal and run out of the house, and I smile, knowing that they won't be back for a week, at least. Though of course, they will always find a way in. Always.
My father is gone when I come back inside, and I know that I will have to bring Merkuul to the reaping again. My father is never home. I think he tries to keep himself distracted. When my mother died, he plunged into his work, not daring to let himself get hurt again. I rush upstairs to get out my reaping clothes- my mother's dress, hemmed to fit. Coming downstairs, Merkuul has left by himself. Dammit. I'll never find him now. I trudge off to the square where there are a battalion of Peacekeepers and reporters; perched on rooftops, the stage- anywhere they could get coverage. I walk over to one of my two friends- Milu, who doesn't do well in school because she knows that she'll get a job at the plant anyway. Milu and I are incredibly different, yet we are both outcasts. So what choice did we have? As our escort, Lanni Tarr, mounts the stage in heels so high it makes her look like she's climbing a mountain, Milu begins whispering her speech in unison with her. There are no changes in hers or the mayor's speech, unless there's a victor- and there hasn't been one from here in over a decade. Tribute equals "I'm so sorry…" here. We say, quietly, in sync, "And may the odds be ever in your favor." It's like an instinct- and it isn't comforting.
She teeters over to the large glass bowl and trips on her way there. Eager to get away from it, she plucks the first name she can reach and walks carefully over to the microphone. She says a name but I don't register anything but my brothers scream and I whip around, half expecting it to be him. That when I realize it. It's not him. It's me.
